


baby, it's cold outside

by rosewrought



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Reaper76 Free For All Secret Santa, Snow, Snowball Fight, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewrought/pseuds/rosewrought
Summary: The second the snowball leaves his hand and begins to whistle through the air, Gabe’s arm jerks up in front of his face as if to catch it. It meets his hand and explodes on impact, showering him with powdery snow. Gabe blinks in surprise, his brain taking a moment to catch up with his reflexes, before a wicked smile spreads across his face and a mean laugh rattles in his chest.“Oh, Morrison,” he sneers. “You’re really asking for it.”





	baby, it's cold outside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrushDog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrushDog/gifts).



> My [Reaper76 Free for All Secret Santa](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/R76FFASS/profile) gift for [BrushDog](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BrushDog/pseuds/BrushDog), who requested Gabe and Jack having some fun in the snow. Happy holidays! I hope you enjoy it!

For what seems like the hundredth time since they arrived, Gabriel grumbles, “It’s so goddamn _cold_.”

At this point, Jack is out of reassurances. The _you’ll get used to it_ s and _I’ll keep you warm_ s have long since run dry and all he has to offer is a good-humoured eye-roll. Gabe is a California boy, born and raised, he reminds himself, and he spends very little time at HQ in Zürich, usually on the ground with his team. Yeah, it’s cold, but complaining about it isn’t going to make it any warmer.

Jack keeps his mouth shut. He doesn’t want to antagonise Gabe, even though it’s starting to grate on his nerves; they’re both fresh off duty, thrown back together again after _months_ of their only contact being the occasional late night tryst when they both happen to sleep at the same time. They just need some time to ease back into each other’s company, is all.

That’s kind of what this vacation is for.

It had been Dr Ziegler’s idea. In fact, she had kind of forced them into it, refusing to sign off on their annual medical evals unless they took some of their accumulated leave. She had known that neither of them would do so willingly, that Jack was forever waiting until his workload eased (which it never will), that Gabe was too scared of leaving his baby, Blackwatch, in someone else’s hands (no matter how capable). Rest would do them both good, she had said in that clipped tone of hers that leaves no room for argument. They would both come back fresh and well rested and they would be able to perform to the best of their abilities again.

And, besides, wouldn’t _actually_ spending some time together be nice?

Jack wasn’t sold on the rest and relaxation spiel, but he couldn’t deny how much he missed his husband, so, begrudgingly, he had agreed to Dr Ziegler’s terms.

They’d settled on the Swiss Alps, mostly because they would be close enough to return to headquarters quickly should something go wrong but far enough away so that it felt like a _real_ holiday. Jack had booked a little wooden cabin high in the mountains and that had been that; the rest of the Strike Team had waved them off as they stepped onto the train and they hadn’t heard from them since.

In hindsight, Jack probably should have let Gabe get settled before he dragged him back outside to check out their new surroundings, but hindsight is twenty-twenty and Jack hadn’t expected him to become so _grumpy_. He’s overworked and overtired—they both are—but where Jack finds the opportunity to explore and experience exhilarating, Gabe would rather climb into bed and sleep for a week. Different strokes for different folks and all. And if Gabe was really that intent on staying in the cabin, he always could have said no.

Jack only throws the first snowball to cheer Gabe up a little, to make him laugh, _he swears_.

The second it leaves his hand and begins to whistle through the air, Gabe’s arm jerks up in front of his face as if to catch it. The projectile meets his hand and explodes on impact, showering him with powdery snow. Gabe blinks in surprise, his brain taking a moment to catch up with his reflexes, before a wicked smile spreads across his face and a mean laugh rattles in his chest.

“Oh, Morrison,” he sneers. “You’re really asking for it.”

And Gabe stoops to gather snow in the palm of his hand, compacting it into a ball.

Jack can’t help the delighted shriek that tears out of him when Gabe returns fire, hitting him directly in the chest. Belatedly, he dives for cover behind the remnants of a low stonework wall.

“You think that’s enough to stop me?” Jack calls over his cover as he prepares the next projectile, face split wide with a goofy grin. Before he can return fire, he hears another snowball hit the stone at his back, disintegrating with a dull thud. But something is wrong. Gabe’s movement has fallen silent and Jack strains to pinpoint his location before he ducks out of cover to throw the snowball, but there’s nothing. He’s disappeared.

Jack narrows his eyes as he searches for footprints. The snow gleams in the weak winter sunlight and it’s hard to identify any tracks from this position. Carefully, he leans further over the wall, becoming a little bolder the longer Gabe waits to strike.

But he’s looking in all the wrong places; Gabe approaches him from behind, a looming presence that Jack feels only half a second before he’s grabbed. Gabe’s arm snakes around his throat and he pulls him flush against his chest; the other hand comes up and Jack’s eyes widen in fright as Gabe mashes the snowball into his face.

“Cheater!” Jack splutters, writhing against Gabe’s hold, and he feels Gabe’s laugh against his back.

“I don’t remember agreeing on any rules,” he replies, and is going to gloat more but Jack grips Gabe’s forearm and reverses the hold, wrestling him to the ground. Where Gabe is quicker and quieter, Jack is stronger, and it’s a mistake on Gabe’s part to challenge Jack like this.

They scuffle for a long minute, rolling on the ground and kicking up snow, until Jack wrenches Gabe’s arms above his head and pins him to the ground. Gabe suddenly slumps, and Jack gives a triumphant laugh until he settles his lower body on his hips to keep him in place and realises why Gabe has conceded a premature defeat.

“You’re hard,” Jack accuses breathlessly, his grin unwavering. Gabe turns his head to the side to hide the colour that’s risen to his cheeks.

“Shut up.”

“You always did like getting roughed around, huh?”

Gabe swats at him half-heartedly. “Are you going to do something about it?”

Jack isn’t a cruel man; he laughs again as he removes one of his gloves, pops the button on Gabe’s slacks, slips a hand under his waistband to pull out his cock. Gabe hisses, though whether it’s a reaction to his touch or the chill in the air, Jack can’t tell. He can feel himself getting worked up in response to Gabe’s arousal, can feel warmth beginning to thrum through his veins and pool between his legs.

“God, I love you.”

It falls from his mouth unbidden and with such sincerity that it makes him flush. Gabe’s features soften and he grabs the collar of Jack’s coat to yank him down and seal their lips together.

The kiss is deep and slow, Gabe’s tongue sliding out and Jack opening up so easily for him, like this, right here, is where he belongs. Gabe’s hands twine in Jack’s hair and pull _just right_ , and it has Jack moaning into the kiss, the noise greedily swallowed up by Gabe’s mouth. He can feel himself getting hot under the collar, his body temperature rocketing despite the cold, his flush creeping down his neck and into his coat. His pants growing tighter around his erection.

Jack squeezes Gabe’s dick in his hand and is rewarded by something that sounds awfully like a whimper. The pace he sets is slow, far too slow if Gabe’s growl is any indication, and he lets Gabe do most of the work fucking up into his hand, only twisting around the head the way he likes it. His thumb smears messily across the crown, where a pearl of precome has already gathered. Jack breaks the kiss to mouth down Gabe’s jaw, his throat.

“I can’t believe you’re this worked up already.”

“Can you get on with it, please, Jack?” Gabe groans, a pleading note entering his voice, and there is no way Jack can deny him that.

“Fuck,” he mutters, releasing Gabe only to pull himself out, already mostly hard. His hands are off him for only a moment, but a moment is all it takes for Gabe to flip them over, bracing himself with a hand by Jack’s head. The movement is effortless—and more than a little sexy. Jack cries out in surprise, but Gabe is already covering him with his body, lining their hips up to rut together. Hastily, Jack takes both their lengths in hand and begins to fuck into the loose grip of his fingers.

It’s too dry, too hot, too much all at once. It’s glorious.

The slide of Gabe’s skin against his is heavenly, just on the right side of painful. Gabe’s foreskin catches on the head of Jack’s dick, silky and damp as Gabe drives into his fist. With his free hand, Gabe takes hold of them as well and their fingers slot together, Gabe’s gloved and Jack’s bare. Jack hauls him down for another kiss.

“D’you remember the first time this happened?” Jack mumbles against Gabe’s mouth. “In the Program, the first time I beat you sparring? I pinned you to the mat and you got a fucking boner.”

“You told me you didn’t notice,” Gabe accuses, though he’s too breathless to sound angry. Jack laughs.

“I lied. It was— Ngh, it was so fucking hot, baby, I thought about it while I jacked off for a week straight. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” and Gabe is coming, cock kicking against Jack’s as he spills over his hand and onto his coat. Jack keeps laughing.

Gabe slumps over him and his weight is a warm, comforting presence as Jack tightens his grip to get himself off. His strokes are hard and fast and he clings to Gabe with his free hand, holding him as close as he possibly can as pleasure coils in his gut and curls his toes. He comes with a shout, muffled against Gabe’s shoulder, body pulled taut by orgasm beneath his husband. As the pleasure peaks and begins to wash away, he relaxes into the snow, lying boneless while he catches his breath.

It’s only then, bathing in the afterglow, that the intimacy of the moment fades and Jack realises what they’ve just done. That they’ve just fucked, outdoors, in the snow, where anyone could happen across them. Embarrassment blooms in his belly at the thought. But Gabe lifts his head, gazes at him for a moment with those big, brown, blown-out eyes, and kisses Jack soundly on the mouth, and his anxiety is chased away by Gabe’s tongue.

When they part, Gabe rolls to the side and lies on his back. Jack tucks himself back into his trousers, then twines their fingers together and they stay there for some time, gazing up at the sky in companionable silence, so full of relief and joy and love it’s practically tangible. 

“Hey, Gabe?” Jack says after a while, when his heart has slowed and his breathing has returned to normal.

“Mhm?”

“You were right. It’s cold.”

It’s Gabe’s turn to laugh, and he does so heartily, a low, musical noise that Jack can’t hear enough of. The sound of it alone makes him smile.

“C’mon, Morrison,” Gabe replies, climbing to his feet. He wipes his hand off on his jacket before offering it to Jack to help him up. “Let’s take it inside for round two. Before your dick falls off.”


End file.
